


Heart's Desire

by snarky24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, Romance, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky24/pseuds/snarky24
Summary: Harry and Ginny find new ways to defy Umbridge after drinking some special pumpkin juice at the Valentine’s Day feast. Written for SIYE's Pumpkin Juice Challenge.





	1. The Pumpkin Juice Drought

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the SIYE Pumpkin Juice Challenge and won the "People's Choice" and "Most Unexpected" award. It is set alongside the events of OotP. The first chapter borrows a few lines from OotP as Harry recounts his date with Cho.

Harry collapsed wordlessly onto the bench next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table, thoroughly dreading the Valentine’s Day feast. The table was overflowing with steaming casseroles, roasted meats, and decadent desserts. Red and pink heart-shaped confetti lightly drifted from the enchanted ceiling, which was glowing pink as the sun set above.

But Harry wasn’t in the mood for a feast. He’d spent the afternoon recounting the night Voldemort returned for Rita Skeeter’s article in _The Quibbler_ after a confounding and awkward date with Cho at Madam Puddifoot’s garish tea shop.

Through the enchanted ceiling, he could see that dusk was falling and the clear February sky was turning shades of pink and purple, almost as if it had been bewitched to complement the pink-heart shaped confetti that lightly drifted from the above. 

It had been a clear, breezy day — perfect for Quidditch. Ron and Ginny had missed this month’s Hogsmeade trip because Angelina had called for a mandatory all-day practice. With Harry, Fred, and George banned, the team had three new players and needed all the practice they could get.

Harry sighed, wishing he could clear his head with a brisk flight around the castle. It hadn’t been easy to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned, especially with Rita Skeeter. But he didn’t regret it, even if it was part of the reason why his date with Cho had gone so badly.

He reached for a pitcher of pumpkin juice, but found it was empty.

“Really!” grumbled Harry. “All this food, but nothing to drink!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving glare, clearly warning him not to insult the house elves.

“I’m sure the house elves will fill the pitchers soon,” she said stiffly. “The feast’s only just started, and some students aren’t back from Hogsmeade yet.”

Harry’s eyes drifted to Cho Chang, who was sitting with her friend Marietta at the Ravenclaw table with her back turned to him. Perhaps he should count himself lucky to be back from Hogsmeade so early, he thought darkly. Cho had hoped he’d spend the entire afternoon with her at Madam Puddifoot’s dreadful tea shop listening to her talk about snogging Cedric.

“Oh, I forgot to ask you,” said Hermione brightly, following Harry’s gaze to the Ravenclaw table, “What happened on your date with Cho? How come you were back so early?” 

“Er...well, it was...” said Harry, shoveling two helpings of mashed potatoes onto his plate, “a complete fiasco, now you mention it.” 

“What was a complete fiasco?” asked Ron loudly, joining Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor table with Ginny in tow. “I thought you said you weren’t going to watch our Quidditch practice today.”

Ron and Ginny were still in their Quidditch gear, which meant they’d been practicing since before Harry left for Hogsmeade that morning. Both immediately started piling their plates with food.

“Harry’s date with Cho,” said Hermione matter-of-factly.

“Did she start crying again when you snogged her?” asked Ron thickly, his mouth full of chicken. “If so, then I really think you might need to consider the possibility that you’re a bad kisser.”

Ginny snorted into her mashed potatoes, while Hermione tut tutted.

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes darted to Ginny. She hadn’t looked up from her plate, but her lips were pursed as if she were trying to suppress a smile. He suddenly did not want to discuss his first kiss—or really any kisses—with Cho in front of Ginny, especially if the topic was turning to his kissing prowess (or lack of). While he didn’t care what Hermione thought about his kissing, he certainly cared about what other girls at Hogwarts thought about it.

Luckily, he was spared any more comments from Ron when the empty pitcher in front of him magically filled with pumpkin juice. Harry made a move for the pitcher, but Ron had already snatched it from the table.

“Finally! I’m parched!” he exclaimed, spilling pumpkin juice onto the table as he eagerly filled his glass. Ginny wordlessly slid her glass next to Ron’s, and he sloshed some into hers as well. 

“Hermione?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and motioning toward her with the pitcher.

Hermione had been sitting with her arms crossed, clearly still annoyed by Ron. But her face softened and she gave him a small smile as lifted her glass.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as he filled her glass. She set her glass down abruptly on the table. “Oh, Ron, you’re splashing juice all over my hand!”

Ron gave her an apologetic shrug, before turning to Harry. “Sorry, mate, there’s no more. I’m sure the house elves will send more up from the kitchens in a minute.”

He set the empty pitcher on the table, and Harry sighed, feeling grumpy again. Normally, it only took a few moments for the pitchers to refill, but this time it remained empty.

“One more summer at the Burrow, and you’ll be quick enough to beat Ron to the food,” said Ginny with a lopsided grin. She tossed her long plait over her shoulder as she took a drink of her pumpkin juice. Harry laughed, feeling a bit lighter as his thoughts briefly drifted to the Burrow. At least he’d still be able to play Quidditch with the Weasleys during the summers.

“Hm, wonder what’s going on in the kitchens?” asked Ron, tipping the empty pitcher toward him to check its contents. “It’s never taken this long to get a refill before.”

“Umbridge probably told the house elves to limit our pumpkin juice, just to torture us,” said Ginny darkly.

Harry looked up at the head table, searching for Umbridge in her usual sickening pink outfit. But he was surprised to see she wasn’t there. Hermione interrupted his thoughts before he could puzzle over her absence.

“So what happened with Cho?” asked Hermione, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Ron and Ginny had were gulping down theirs as if they hadn’t had anything to drink all day.

After a longing glance at the empty pitcher, he grudgingly told them what had happened at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop.

***

Ginny drained her pumpkin juice as she listened idly to Harry’s story about his date with Cho. Her thirst was still not quenched after a long day of Quidditch practice. She reached for the pitcher, but was dismayed to see that it was _still_ empty. It seemed they’d been cursed with a pumpkin juice drought.

Not keen on hearing about Harry’s date with Cho, she turned her attention to the Ravenclaw table, her eyes searching for Michael. She had a vague sense that she had wanted to tell him about her first Quidditch practice, but she suddenly realized that she didn’t really care what he thought about it anymore.

Instead, she found herself listening with increasing interest to Harry’s story. She set her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand as she leaned forward, wanting to take in everything about him. He would occasionally run his hand through his messy, jet black hair as he talked, briefly revealing the thin, lightning-shaped scar just above his right eye. The rim of his round glasses gleamed in the light from the setting sun, but his green eyes seemed to shine even more brightly. 

Ginny sighed, absently squishing her cheek against the palm of her hand as sank more deeply into it. It had been nearly a year since she’d let herself drink in Harry’s brilliant eyes. She vaguely wondered why she had ever decided to give up on Harry in the first place...

As Harry talked more, she learned that he had agreed to meet Hermione at the Three Broomsticks to do an interview with the Quibbler about Voldemort’s return after his date with Cho. But when he’d told her so, she’d started talking about the other boys she’d dated and abruptly ended the date. 

Ginny found that she could barely hold her tongue as Hermione attempted to explain to Harry where he had gone wrong. Any girl who deserved Harry should know him well enough to understand and respect that Hermione is his best friend.

“You should have told her differently,” said Hermione with a patient air. “You should have said it was really annoying, but I’d made you promise to come along to the Three Broomsticks, and you really didn’t want to go, you’d much rather spend the whole day with her, but unfortunately you thought you really ought to meet me and would she please, please come along with you, and hopefully you’d be able to get away more quickly? 

“And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am too,” Hermione added as an afterthought. 

“But I don’t think you’re ugly,” said Harry, looking confused. Hermione and Ginny laughed. 

“You shouldn’t have to pretend Hermione is ugly to make your girlfriend happy,” Ginny heard herself say. “Cho could have just asked you if you liked Hermione better than her instead of making assumptions.”

She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as she realized she’d said it out loud. It was almost as though another part of her had said it, as if her mouth had acted of its own accord. 

Hermione laughed nervously, clearly caught off guard by Ginny’s directness. “I’m not saying what Cho did was sensible…” 

Ginny looked down at her plate immediately, her face burning with embarrassment at her uncharacteristic brashness. 

Even though she had meant what she said, she hadn’t intended to say it out loud. 

“Well, it certainly would have been easier if she’d just asked,” she heard Harry mutter grumpily. She glanced up for a moment, still mortified, and saw him looking at her. Her heart fluttered, despite her embarrassment.

“Does this mean I should just tell every girl I fancy upfront that I don’t fancy Hermione?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

“Not if she really gets you, Harry,” she replied automatically, again as if her mouth were acting separately from the rest of her body.

“Cho wouldn’t believe you anyway,” said Ron thickly, his mouth full of chicken and potatoes. “Anyone with eyes can see that Hermione’s beautiful.”

Ginny barely noticed Ron’s comment and Hermione’s ensuing blush as a rush of panic shot through her body. What was happening? She was blurting out thoughts she’d never share with Harry and indulging in feelings she had buried inside herself months ago. It was almost as if someone else was controlling her…

Instinctively, she reached behind the bench for her school bag. She’d taken it to Quidditch practice today in case she’d needed some snacks or or a change of clothes. Spinning around in her seat, she ripped open the bag, rifling through it. She’d thought it was impossible that Riddle’s diary could come back, but if she had been writing in it, she knew she wouldn’t remember.

There appeared to be nothing but apples, sugar quills, school books, and clothing in her bag. Yet, Ginny was still not convinced. She closed the bag and threw it on the ground. There was only one way to be sure that the diary was gone—she would need to set her bag on fire and destroy everything inside. She pulled out her wand and had started to mutter the spell when someone bumped into her, knocking her wand out of her hand.

“Oof, pardon me!” said Neville, stooping quickly to pick up her wand. “I must have been lost in thought…”

Ginny took her wand from him, but noticed he wasn’t looking at her. He had a goofy grin on his face as his eyes rapidly scanned the Great Hall.

“Looking for someone?” Ginny asked, raising her head to look around with him. She hadn’t even noticed that the Great Hall had grown quite loud with excited giggles and laughter. Dozens of students had left their seats and were moving between the tables, while others were hurrying toward the entrance hall, holding hands.

“I’m just looking for Hannah,” said Neville absently, his eyes on the Hufflepuff table. “She’s so amazing, you know? I wonder if she’ll go to Hogsmeade with me next month.”

And then he drifted away without another word. At the Hufflepuff table, there were several students brazenly making out, most seemed to be upperclassmen that she’d never met. She furrowed her brow. In her five years at Hogwarts, she had never seen students celebrate Valentine’s Day with such ardor.

She watched Neville slowly make his way to Hannah, puzzling over his and the others’ strange behavior. She’d seen Harry destroy the diary, and there was no reason to believe she’d been writing in it again, especially given that she wasn’t the only person who seemed to be unable to control herself today.

She slowly turned back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry was silently chewing his food, looking confused. Ginny couldn’t help thinking that he was handsome even when he was eating.

“Oh, Ron!” giggled Hermione, reaching across the table to gently bat him on the arm.

“I mean it, Hermione,” replied Ron, grinning. “You’re the most brilliant witch I’ve ever met.”

Ginny suddenly wanted to vomit. Was Ron _flirting_? There was definitely something funny going on, and she had a hunch about who was behind it.

She stood up so quickly that she knocked her silverware on the floor. It clattered loudly, but Ron and Hermione didn’t even look up. She clambered over the bench, leaving the silverware, and set off down the aisle. 

Within seconds, she spotted Fred and George sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table. They had rolls of parchment spread out on the table and appeared to be surveying the room and taking notes. They both smiled at her as she approached.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?” asked Fred, grinning impishly. This confirmed to Ginny that the twins had certainly done something to provoke not only her odd behavior, but everyone else’s as well.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said lowering her voice and sitting down next to Fred.

George poured a glass of pumpkin juice and slid it toward her. “You must be parched after such a long day of Quidditch.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “What did you put in the pumpkin juice?” she asked, her panic returning. Without waiting for a response, she pulled out her wand and Vanished the juice on the table in front of her.

“Hey!” said Fred indignantly. “The house elves spent a lot of time mixing that!”

“You’re having house elves put a love potion into the pumpkin juice?” she said incredulously. “So that’s why the pumpkin juice was taking so long to refill!” 

“Who said anything about a love potion?” asked George, looking offended.

Ginny wordlessly motioned around the room, as if it were obvious. At the Hufflepuff table behind them, students had started climbing over the table to join their Gryffindor sweethearts. A moment later, Cormac McLaggen had rushed down the aisle to talk to Romilda, who had been sitting to Ginny’s right.

“Romilda, we are the most good-looking people at Hogwarts,” said McLaggen haughtily. “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be together.”

“Oh, Cormac,” gushed Romilda. “You’re right—we _are_ beautiful!”

McLaggen bumped Ginny as he wedged himself between her and Romilda on the bench and kissed her passionately.

The twins seemed unperturbed by the mayhem surrounding them. In fact, George was calmly taking notes.

“It’s not a love potion,” explained Fred. “It’s an enhancement potion called _Veritas Amare._ It reveals your heart’s desire by bringing up your hidden feelings.”

“That still sounds like a love potion to me,” replied Ginny, feeling annoyed.

“No, it’s not a love potion because it doesn’t create love where there is none,” protested Fred. “It removes your inhibitions, so you can experience the love that is already deep in your heart.”

“And we added a bit of Veritaserum, so that you can’t lie to your true love,” said George.

Ginny felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as she realized that she’d blurted her thoughts about Cho because the potion wouldn’t allow her to lie to Harry. But her relief was quickly replaced by anger.

“You can’t just experiment on people without their consent!” she exclaimed. “What if they’re true love doesn’t love them back? They’re going to make fools of themselves in front of them and never know why!”

“She’s just mad because her true love is Harry,” said Fred calmly to George, who nodded sagely.

“So what did you say to Harry?” asked George with a barely suppressed smile.

“Nothing!” she said defensively, irritated that they were trying to change the subject. “What if the potion makes someone sick? Or even kills them?”

“Relax, Ginny,” chuckled George. “We’ve been working on this for years. It just recently passed testing with the Department of Magical Enhancement Potions and has been approved for limited release.”

Ginny was floored. She hadn’t expected the twins to have put so much time and thought into this. It suddenly seemed like this was much more than a silly Valentine’s Day prank.

“Testing? Limited release?” she asked incredulously. “That must have cost a fortune. Where did you get the gold for that?”

“We have a private investor,” replied Fred, sounding smug.

But Ginny thought this sounded like bad news. She was immediately reminded of the illegal gambling the twins had done with Ludo Bagman at the World Cup last year. “You’d better not be getting mixed up with—”

“It’s nothing like that, Ginny. We swear,” said Fred quickly, as if reading her thoughts.

“Honest,” replied George, looking earnest. “You’d like him, he’s a good bloke.”

“I think you’d even _love_ him,” added Fred, snickering. George threw a dinner roll at him, as if he wanted to silence him.

“You know what, I don’t want to know about your dodgy investor,” said Ginny, realizing she didn’t want to get involved with their nonsense. “As long as you’re sure you’re not going to accidentally kill anyone—”

“It’s fine, Ginny,” said George, reassuringly. “The only side effect is the amnesia—”

“And some people don’t even experience it!” interrupted Fred.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, her worry intensifying. The more she learned, the less she liked. “Amnesia?” she said faintly.

“Right,” nodded Fred. “The vast majority of people who drink the potion forget the entire experience afterward. We’re trying to work out how to stop the from happening.”

“But honestly, it’s probably better that people forget. Look at this madness,” said George, motioning around the Great Hall.

Ginny looked around. Draco Malfoy was rushing toward the door with Pansy Parkinson simpering at his heels. Neville had found Hannah, and the two were locked in a passionate embrace. Food littered the floor where students had passionately cleared the table to lock lips with each other.

“Oh, look,” said George, bringing her attention back to the twins. “The next batch of pumpkin juice is ready.”

Ginny’s head snapped toward Harry, who was still sitting with Ron and Hermione at the other end of the Gryffindor table. 

She was suddenly gripped with irrational dread. What if he drank the pumpkin juice and his heart’s desire wasn’t her? Even though she’d decided to give up on him, in the back of her mind she’d always believed in the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Harry might one day return her feelings.

And this awful _Veritas Amare_ potion might finally snuff out that small ray of hope.

“I knew it was Harry,” smirked Fred, following Ginny’s gaze. “It’s always been Harry.”

Ginny ignored him. “I have to stop him from drinking that potion,” she said quietly, unable to tear her gaze away from Harry.

“But you won’t,” said George matter-of-factly.

Ginny spun around, glaring at her brother. “Why not?” she spat, offended.

“The potion won’t allow you to act against your best interests,” he replied, folding his arms smugly.

“What’d you mean by that? How is it in my best interest to have Harry doused in love potion?” demanded Ginny, feeling her panic rise again at the reminder that she wasn’t fully in control of herself. 

“Right now, you don’t think Harry fancies you,” explained Fred.

“He’s dating Cho. I think that’s a pretty clear signal,” she replied acidly. 

“Right, but you’re hoping she’s not his heart’s desire—” he continued.

“I don’t think about Harry anymore,” Ginny retorted, speaking as much to herself as her brother.

“Except that he’s all you can think about right now,” smirked Fred.

“A little bit of Veritas Amare might—” started George, but Ginny cut him off.

“Shut it!” she snapped, unwilling to hear the ugly truth. She didn’t want to believe that she wanted to know Harry’s heart so badly that she’d knowingly let him drink a love potion to find out. Automatically, she turned back toward Harry, who was still talking to Ron and Hermione. 

Even from this distance, Ginny could tell that Harry was uncomfortable. Ron was leaning across the table to tuck a lock of Hermione’s bushy brown behind her ear while Hermione appeared to be giggling.

Then, Harry reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice and filled his glass to the brim. Ginny’s heart leapt into her throat. She knew that she should stop him. She could call out to him or destroy his glass with a well-aimed Blasting Curse. But she was paralyzed, rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Her heart was pounding in her throat. Who was Harry’s true love? She knew it wasn’t Cho. He’d be sitting with her at the Ravenclaw table if he really wanted to be with her, despite their awful date.

Ginny let out a small gasp as Harry drank deeply from his glass, nearly draining it in one go.

“It’s done. Nothing you can do now, sis,” she heard George say from behind her.

“When does it wear off?” she demanded, as she whipped her head around to face her brother. She was desperate to be released from the agony of pining over Harry while watching him fall in love with someone else.

“Usually about six hours, but it depends on how much is consumed and how strong your will is,” explained George calmly. “Some people can resist its effects more than others.”

Ginny stormed away, unwilling to waste another moment talking about this dreadful love potion. Her feet were automatically carrying her along the Gryffindor table, back to Harry. With great effort, she forced herself to turn around and head toward the Ravenclaw table. She wasn’t going to give Fred and George the satisfaction of seeing her rush to Harry and fawn all over him.

She shuddered at the thought. She’d worked so hard to bury her feelings for him. She didn’t want a silly potion to reduce her back into the lovesick little girl who was too shy to even speak in Harry’s presence. But now all she could think about was his adorably messy black hair and the way his eyes brightened when he smiled.

Fortunately, she found Michael easily at the Ravenclaw table. But as she drew closer, she saw that he was one of several boys who were now talking avidly to Cho. Ginny fought the urge to roll her eyes. Cho tossed her long, silky hair, surrounded by boys and giggling girlishly. Ginny suspected they’d all drank some pumpkin juice.

Michael didn’t seem to notice Ginny until she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ginny,” said Michael, looking confused.

“Hi,” she said lamely, suddenly unsure of what to say. She vaguely remembered being attracted to Michael, but it felt like such a long time ago now. A different Ginny from the distant past had wanted to tell Michael all about her first Quidditch practice and hear about his day in Hogsmeade. But at the moment, she didn’t care what he thought about her Quidditch practice nor what he did with his time.

“Hi,” he replied, rather stupidly. 

“Er, I was just talking to Cho,” he added pointedly, as if implying that Ginny should leave.

There was a time in which Ginny might have been hurt by Michael’s dismissiveness. She might have felt jilted by him for the same girl who had stolen Harry’s heart... But instead, Ginny blinked owlishly at Michael, puzzling over how quickly her infatuation with him had dissipated and how shallow it had seemed compared to her deep feelings for Harry. 

Suddenly, she heard a voice close to her ear.

“Ginny,” Harry said softly, his warm breath tickling her neck.

Ginny jumped, startled. “Harry!” she gasped, spinning around to find him standing directly behind her.

Harry closed his hand around her arm, just above her elbow. His palm against her skin was warm and sent a shock of electricity through her body.

“We’d better get back to the Gryffindor table,” he said quietly, his eyes darting to the head table. Without waiting for her response, he started to gently steer her away from Michael.

Ginny whipped her head back toward Michael and Cho, feeling disoriented. Why was Harry at the Ravenclaw table? Had she been wrong? Was Cho truly his heart’s desire? Had he shown up to talk to Cho, but realized he needed to get rid of Ginny first?

“Why are we going back?” Ginny blurted, desperate to know the truth and unable to stop herself. 

“Umbridge,” Harry muttered, not looking back at her as he led her back to the Gryffindor table. 

Ginny’s eyes shot to the head table. Umbridge had taken her usual place at the center, wearing a pastel pink twill skirt and cardigan, adorned with a red heart-shaped pin near her collar. Her beady eyes were fixed threateningly on Harry and Ginny.

She felt a flash of anger and annoyance. There was no doubt in her mind that Umbridge was looking for a reason to give her detention for fraternizing with students outside of her house. As far as she knew, there still wasn’t an Educational Decree banning inter-house friendships... 

But Ginny quickly forgot her anger as Harry and she reached Ron and Hermione. The two of them were leaning across the table with their heads close together, clearly laughing about something private. Hermione’s hand lay face up on the table while Ron idly drew circles with his finger on her palm. Ginny couldn’t help feeling a rush of happiness for the two of them—it was clear that they were each other’s heart’s desire.

“Budge up, Ron,” said Harry loudly, as if to announce their presence. 

Ron gave Harry and Ginny an annoyed look and grudgingly scooted over a few inches. Ginny sat down next to him, expecting Harry to set off around the table to return to his seat across from her. But to her surprise, he awkwardly wedged himself onto her other side and Ginny found herself pressed tightly between Harry and Ron.

“Geroff, Ginny!” groaned Ron, shoving her into Harry. She felt her stomach explode with butterflies as her arm pressed against Harry’s side.

“Why don’t we take a walk, Ron?” said Hermione quietly, sending Ginny a meaningful look. She wondered if Hermione had realized they’d drank a love potion or if she was simply communicating her joy that Ron seemed to have suddenly realized his feelings for her.

Ron grunted his assent as he roughly disentangled himself from Ginny, somehow shoving her further into Harry. Harry lifted his arm and held it above her to allow her more space. Her face burned as her cheek brushed against his chest and she caught a whiff of his minty scent.

As soon as Ron was gone, Ginny scooted away from Harry. While the contact had been exhilarating, she still had enough self-control to respect his personal space. Besides, she suspected he’d be hurrying back to Cho now that he had removed Ginny from the situation.

“I’m sure you’ll want be heading back to talk to Cho,” she blurted, unable to keep her thoughts to herself.

Harry blinked at her owlishly. “Who?”

“Cho,” she replied, motioning toward the Ravenclaw table. She furrowed her brow, confused. George had said the potion caused amnesia _after_ it wore off. Harry shouldn’t have any problems with his memory right now.

“Oh,” he said quickly, clearly catching up. “No, I don’t want to talk to Cho.”

Ginny’s heart leapt. There was nothing wrong with Harry’s memory, and it seemed that Cho might not be his heart’s desire after all!

“That’s wonderful,” she replied, giving him what she could only imagine was a goofy grin while silently cursing her brothers’ potion.

“What were you and Michael talking about? Making any Valentine’s plans?” he asked, thankfully ignoring her comment. 

“Plans with Michael? Of course not!” she laughed. The idea of going on a date with Michael seemed absurd. She’d just as soon go on a date with Seamus or Colin. It was like Michael was just another friend now.

“I just thought that you might want to go out with him since you weren’t able to go with him to Hogsmeade today,” Harry replied, running a hand through his hair. 

Ginny narrowed her eyes, studying him. Harry seemed nervous and unusually interested in Michael. A small part of her wanted to ask him what he was getting at, but her tongue suddenly felt too heavy to speak. Her curiosity was fleeting, however, and was replaced by an overwhelming urge to set the record straight on how she currently felt about Michael.

“I don’t want to go out with Michael,” she said in a rush, her tongue suddenly loosening. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to add, _But I’d love to go out with you._

Ginny’s stomach clenched at her unintended honesty. Harry nodded silently, his face unreadable.

“So how was Quidditch practice?” he asked abruptly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subject. But she relaxed quickly. She would much rather talk about Quidditch than her love life with Harry Potter.


	2. Unexpected Proposals

Ginny didn’t mince words as she described how truly awful her first Quidditch practice had been. Angelina had nearly been in tears after witnessing the inexperience of the new team. Harry felt a pang of guilt, realizing that his foolhardiness had left the team in a lurch.

But Ginny came alive as she described all of the new moves she’d been itching to try and how wonderful it was to play with a full team. While Harry could tell she wished she’d been playing on a better team, her love for Quidditch was undeniable. She recounted in surprisingly vivid detail the weather conditions, her broom’s performance, and every swerve and dive she made.

Her bright brown eyes danced with joy as she became more animated and enthusiastic, and her passion for the sport was contagious. Harry quickly found himself sharing in Ginny’s happiness instead of wallowing in his guilt and despair about getting banned. He’d thought that he would be jealous of Ron and Ginny for getting to play when he couldn’t, but now he realized he was more jealous of their teammates. He found himself wishing he could be on the team with Ginny—or at least just go flying with her. 

Cho was a good Quidditch player, but she didn’t talk about it with the same passion and excitement. He had never thought to invite her out for an evening flight around the lake or even a quick game of catch during free periods. She just didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would find that fun.

Harry found himself smiling at that thought of flying with Ginny around the lake as they shared ideas for new plays and how Gryffindor might be able to mitigate the damage of their next match. Perhaps he could nick one of the school brooms and sneak out with her tonight…

“Ginny,” he blurted impulsively, when Ginny paused to take a bite of mashed potatoes. “Do you want to go flying with me tonight?”

The words were out of his mouth before he’d even realized he was asking. He felt his cheeks warm at his forwardness, but he didn’t regret what he said.

Ginny’s eyes widened as she swallowed her food, but she seemed to regain her composure quickly. She opened her mouth to respond— 

“Alright, Ginny? Harry?”

Harry’s head snapped across the table as he saw Dean climbing onto the bench to sit opposite of Harry and Ginny.

“Hullo, Dean,” said Ginny, sounding surprised.

Harry nodded at him, feeling unaccountably annoyed that Dean had interrupted their conversation.

“I saw you out on the Quidditch pitch today,” he said to Ginny, flashing her a smile before turning to Harry. “You’d better watch out, Harry. Ginny’s a brilliant Seeker.”

Harry grimaced. He suddenly felt jealous that Dean had got to watch her play when he had spent the day with Cho in Hogsmeade.

“I’ve got a lifetime ban, so I doubt I’ll ever get to chance to challenge her for my spot back,” he replied irritably. He was sure that Umbridge would ban him from even watching Quidditch soon.

Ginny blushed deeply at Dean’s compliment, her face glowing like the setting sun. Harry felt a stab of annoyance that Dean was able to elicit such a strong response from her. 

“I’ll never be as brilliant as Harry,” she said lightly, shooting Harry a lopsided smile that made his stomach flutter. “Besides, Seeker’s not my cuppa tea. I prefer Chaser, so he’s going to have to find a way back onto the team.”

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm at the thought of playing together on the same team.

“You’re a Chaser? We should go play sometime,” replied Dean easily. “Seamus has been teaching me, but he’s rubbish. I bet you could show me the ropes.” 

“Is he?” replied Ginny mildly.

“Angelina’s called practice every day, so I’m sure Ginny won’t have time for the rest of term,” Harry cut in quickly, unable to stop himself. He didn’t like the idea of Dean and Ginny playing Quidditch alone, and he was having a hard time hiding it for some reason.

But Dean took Harry’s interruption in stride and nodded good-naturedly. “Ah, of course, the new team will need a lot of practice to get ready for the next match.”

“That’s right,” said Harry shortly, hoping Dean would take the hint and shove off. He was eager to sneak out for a flight with Ginny before it got too dark.

“So any Valentine’s Day plans tonight?” Dean asked, turning to Ginny and leaning toward her with interest.

Harry swallowed hard, feeling his annoyance building. He wasn’t going to flying with Dean, too.

“No, Ginny and I were just discussing—”

Dean laughed, cutting Harry off. “I think you’re great, Harry, but I was talking to the pretty one.” He gave Ginny a winning smile and a roguish wink that made Harry want to hex him. His easy manner made Harry feel like a clumsily admirer, jockeying for Ginny’s attention.

Ginny’s cheeks turned pink again, and Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Was Dean really that charming? 

“Er, no, I don’t have a date planned—” she started tentatively, sending Harry a sidelong glance.

“Does that mean you and Michael aren’t seeing each other anymore?” replied Dean curiously, looking over Ginny’s shoulder at something behind her. Harry followed his gaze.

“Well, I had Quidditch practice all day, and Michael was in Hogsmeade,” she replied hastily, but then she stopped abruptly as she too turned to see what was going on behind her.

Cho was walking to the entrance hall with a small troop of boys following her, elbowing each other to get ahead. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Michael was among them. Just as she reached the doors, she turned and flipped her long, silky hair over her shoulder and giggled.

It seemed that Cho had her own fan club. It had bothered Harry earlier today to hear her brag about the other boys who fancied her, but now he found that he didn’t care. Their date had been fairly unpleasant for both of them. If dating Cho meant more trips to places like Madam Puddifoot’s, than Harry wasn’t sure how long they were going to last.

He glanced furtively at Ginny, worried that she would be upset at Michael’s inclusion in the fan club. He hadn’t even looked their way as he exited the Great Hall.

To Harry’s surprise, Ginny seemed unperturbed. Ignoring Michael, she grabbed a pitcher of pumpkin juice and poured it into a glass. “Dean, would you like some pumpkin juice?” she asked, offering him the glass.

Dean waved his hand as Harry stared at her, confused. “Oh, no thank you. I’ve always hated pumpkin juice,” he said, pulling a face. 

“Hmm,” said Ginny, nodding slowly. She appeared to be studying Dean closely, and Harry didn’t like it. 

“Why don’t you join me for a quick kip down to the kitchens? The house elves keep a few Muggle fizzy drinks there that I think you might like,” replied Dean smoothly.

Harry found Dean’s persistence confounding. His face must have shown his dismay because Dean quickly added, “We can bring one back for you if you’d like, Harry.”

“No, thanks. I prefer pumpkin juice,” he replied, trying to keep the irritation from his voice as he roughly grabbed the glass of pumpkin juice Ginny had offered. Ginny’s head snapped toward Harry and it looked as if she were going to stop him, but decided against it.

“Maybe another time, Dean,” she said pleasantly. “I’m really quite tired from Quidditch practice.”

Harry thought never sounded like a good time. He watched Dean over the rim of his glass as he slowly drank the pumpkin juice.

Dean furrowed his brow as his eyes darted between Harry and Ginny, looking a bit confused. “Alright,” he said slowly, finally accepting defeat. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

And with a nod, he had left them.

Harry set the glass down, happy to see him go. A scraping sound on the table brought his attention back to Ginny. She was pushing the pitcher of pumpkin juice away from them, as if disgusted by it. It was then that Harry noticed the bright red scratches on the back of Ginny’s head.

His hand automatically closed around her wrist, stopping her from pulling her hand away. He turned the back of her hand toward him, and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Five dreadful, blood red words in neat script were etched deep into the back of her hand: _I must not tell lies._.

“Not you, too?” he asked, his heart sinking as he examined the back of her hand. 

Ginny stuck out her chin defiantly. “She’s an evil toad, and I don’t regret what I did,” she said in a heated voice. 

Harry felt a surge of anger toward Umbridge as he imagined her standing over Ginny as she wrote those horrible words in her own blood. A small bead of blood trickled down the back of her wrist. The wound was still fresh.

“When did this happen?” he asked. He slipped his hand under hers and used his other hand to gently dab her wound with a cloth napkin. Her palm felt soft and warm in his.

Ginny inhaled sharply at the contact. “Er, during my detention last night,” she said in a husky voice. She interlaced her fingers with his, and Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. 

She continued, the same heat returning to her voice. “Umbridge told our class earlier this week that the Death Eater breakouts at Azkaban were nothing to worry about, and I told her it’s because Voldemort is back and the Ministry is just looking the other way while he rebuilds his army.”

Harry couldn’t help feeling a rush of gratitude for her bravery, even though he was unhappy that she’d suffered for it and would have preferred that she let him take the brunt of Umbridge’s ire. But he suspected Ginny would bristle at the admonishment, so he decided to keep that part to himself.

“Thank you…for standing up to her,” he said slowly, deciding it was more important that she knew what her loyalty and steadfastness meant to him, especially when Harry felt so powerless.

“Every act of resistance counts,” she said fiercely, her bright brown eyes blazing.

Harry nodded slowly. This was why he continued to stand up to Umbridge and why he had joined Hermione at the Three Broomsticks earlier that day for his tell-all with Rita Skeeter. He felt he had to do whatever he could to defy the Ministry and to defy Voldemort, even if he couldn’t stop terrible things from happening.

Harry was yanked away from his dark thoughts when he felt Ginny pull her hand away from him and grab his own. She turned it over and ran her finger over the scarred, white words on the back his hand: _I must not tell lies._.

“I wish there was something we could do to stop her,” he said bitterly. “This is barbaric.”

To his surprise, Ginny looked up from his hand, a small smile creeping across her face. “We might not be able to stop her, but we can give her a taste of her own medicine.”

“Huh?”

Ginny leaned toward him conspiratorially, her smile growing wider. “I’m saying we should switch Umbridge’s Black Quill with her writing quill,” she whispered.

Harry felt a thrill of excitement. “And how do you propose we do that?”


	3. Into The Toad's Lair

Harry wished he’d had his Invisibility Cloak with him, but there was no time to retrieve it from his trunk in Gryffindor Tower. The Valentine’s Day feast would be over soon, and judging by the droves of students pouring out of the Great Hall to find empty classrooms for private snogging sessions, he suspected Umbridge might end the feast early.

Instead, Ginny and Harry would need to rely on the Marauder’s Map to help them sneak into Umbridge’s office without getting caught. Harry always carried it with him when he went to Hogsmeade, and he was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten it today.

In the back of his mind, Harry knew they were being reckless. Umbridge had already given him a lifetime ban on Quidditch and forced him to write lines in his own blood. He wouldn’t put it past her to try to get him expelled or force him to take Veritaserum and spill the Order’s secrets to the Ministry.

But it wasn’t as if he were of any use to Dumbledore or the Order. Dumbledore had ignored him nearly all year, except when Harry had seen Mr. Weasley’s attack over Christmas. Unless someone was dying, Dumbledore didn’t seem to care at all about Harry. At least if he were expelled, he could spend more time at Grimmauld Place with Sirius.

Besides, Ginny’s warm breath on his neck as she’d whispered her plan into his ear and her wonderful flowery scent had felt like a balm for his wounded soul. Harry couldn’t help smiling as he followed her through the castle, watching her long plait sway as she walked. Ginny understood what it felt like to be stuck on the sidelines. And instead of pity or commiseration, she was offering him a way to take action. 

The map showed that the path was clear to Umbridge’s office on the second floor, so they were able to take a direct route. Umbridge and Filch were still in the Great Hall, while Mrs. Norris was patrolling the seventh floor—no doubt stalking the Room of Requirement for amorous students looking for a secret hideout. 

“This office is vile,” muttered Ginny once they were inside Umbridge’s office. Harry nodded in agreement.

There were lacy covers and doilies draped over every surface, and the walls were covered in a lurid pink wallpaper that clashed horribly with the wall of ornamental plates behind her desk. Each plate featured a technicolored kitten that mewed and purred.

“I’d love to Vanish a few of these plates while we’re here,” said Ginny darkly, fingering her wand.

“No, we can’t leave anything out of place,” said Harry quickly. He personally wanted to set the entire office on fire, but he knew that wouldn’t help them with their mission. “If she thinks someone’s been here, she’ll find a way to reveal our spell and reverse it.”

Ginny nodded knowingly. They both started pulling open Umbridge’s drawers, careful not to move anything. It only took a couple of minutes before Harry found the Black Quill in the bottom drawer of her desk.

“Brilliant!” giggled Ginny. She pulled the white quill from the inkpot on the desk and laid it down next to the Black Quill.

“Right, so all we need to do is switch the colors?” asked Harry, trying to recall the right incantation. Transfiguration was not his strongest subject. He set the Marauder’s Map on the desk next to the quills, so that he could keep an eye on Umbridge’s location while they worked.

Ginny nodded. “I can do it,” she said, as if sensing that Harry was struggling. “I’ve had a lot of practice with Switching Spells.”

She stepped in front of Harry, lightly brushing against him. Harry shifted slightly to give her room to work, but remained behind her as he inhaled another whiff of her pleasant flowery scent.

Ginny peered at him curiously over her shoulder. “Are you still keeping watch?”

“Huh? I was watching you,” said Harry thickly. He wanted to kick himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Why couldn’t he have said something smooth, like Dean would have?

To his relief, Ginny laughed. “I think you’d better watch the map for Umbridge.”

Harry hastily picked up the map, scanning quickly for Umbridge. “Er, she’s still in the Great Hall.”

“Good,” said Ginny softly, taking a deep breath. She raised her wand and muttered a few words, waving her wand over the two quills.

Within seconds, the quills changed colors. The Black Quill looked nearly indistinguishable from an ordinary white writing quill. Harry was impressed that she’d done it on her first try. Even when he was able to recall the incantation, he’d always had trouble getting the colors right.

“Wow, that was some amazing wandwork,” Harry said earnestly. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he imagined what else they could change in Umbridge’s office without her knowing.

“Let’s hope it works,” she replied bracingly. She brushed against him as she leaned forward to replace the disguised Black Quill in the inkpot, sending a jolt of electricity through Harry’s body. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to run his hands over her arms. He had always thought Ginny was pretty, but he’d never felt so viscerally attracted to her.

She bent to place the black writing quill in the desk drawer. “This will either give Umbridge a good scare or it will save the next student in detention from some pain,” she smirked. 

Harry swallowed hard and bit down on his tongue, not trusting himself to speak. As she stood up, she turned around so that she was facing him. She was now wedged between Harry and the desk with her back to the desk. Her cheeks turned pink.

“Well…I think we’re done now,” she said quietly, looking up at him. Her face was inches away from his.

“I was just thinking that there might be some other things we could do in this office,” he said huskily, his mind moving to other activities that didn’t involve pranking Umbridge. He flinched slightly at his own unintended brazenness.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and gave him a playful smile. She slipped her hand into his and moved toward the door, pulling him along with her. “Why don’t we discuss it in the corridor?”

Harry pushed his hand against the door, and Ginny spun around, her back hitting the door with a soft thud. The adrenaline from their success was still surging through him, and he was feeling even more reckless. It suddenly seemed far more exciting to kiss Ginny in Umbridge’s office, after pulling off a brilliant prank. It would be their little secret that nobody would ever know…

“You’d better keep an eye on the map if we’re going to stay,” said Ginny whispered, sounding slightly breathless. 

Harry had almost forgotten that he was supposed to be watching Umbridge. He hastily placed his other hand, with the map still clutched in it, on the other side of her head against the door. With the map pinned under his hand, he could now see both Ginny and the map at the same time. 

“You’re right,” he said grinning, feeling a bit more suave now. “I think I’d better take a closer look at the map…”

Trailing off, he leaned into Ginny, lightly brushing his lips against her check. He pulled back, hoping that he hadn’t misread her playfulness.

To his delight, Ginny was smiling, her bright brown eyes dancing with happiness. Harry removed his free hand from the door and brushed a bit of her hair out of her face. His breath nearly caught in his chest as the soft, silky strands slipped through his fingers. He’d noticed her flaming red hair for years always and had always wondered what it would be like to touch it.

“Harry,” Ginny breathed, her cheeks flushed. She carefully raised her hands and rested them lightly on his chest.

Harry felt a thrill run down his spine at the confirmation that she wanted him, too. Throwing caution to the wind, he moved his hand to her waist and pressed himself against her, his body burning everywhere it touched her.

His eyes darted to the map as he lowered his face to hers… Harry jumped backward, feeling as if he’d been doused with icy cold water.

“Umbridge!” he choked, still clutching the map. She was rapidly making her way down the second floor corridor. How had Harry missed her exit from the Great Hall?

Ginny sprang away from Harry as if she’d been burned.

“How close? Can we make a run for it?” she said urgently, her eyes wide.

“She’ll see us if we leave. I reckon she’ll be at the door in less than a minute,” replied Harry. Both of them were desperately scanning the room, looking for another way out.

Ginny rushed to the window and started to unlatch it. 

“No, we can’t make the jump,” said Harry hastily. Even with a Cushioning Charm, he wasn’t sure they’d escape without injury. Besides, Umbridge would notice the open window and see them below.

“I’ll Summon my broom,” responded Ginny. But Harry wasn’t optimistic. Her broom would have to travel from the other side of the grounds.

He shook his head. “She’ll be here before it arrives.”

Harry could see no other way out. The best option would be to hide Ginny, and take the punishment for himself. It was his fault they had lingered, and there was no point in getting them both in trouble when one of them had a chance to escape. 

He spotted a wooden chest against the wall and ran to it. 

“You can hide in here!” he said in a low voice, yanking open the chest. It appeared to be only half full of blankets and—to Harry’s horror—heavy black chains. Ginny would just fit if she crouched down.

Ginny moved toward the chest, but stopped. “And what about you?”

“I’ll take the blame,” he said seriously. He grabbed her arm and tried to lead her to the chest, but she pulled back.

“Harry, she’ll expel you!” she exclaimed, looking outraged at the thought.

“Better me than you!” he said, feeling more desperate. His heart was pounding in his throat. Umbridge could find them in mere seconds... 

“It’s still safer for you at school than out there!” she argued, refusing to get into the chest. “Let me take the blame—”

“No,” he said curtly. He checked the map again. Umbridge’s dot had stopped next to another dot, labeled _Severus Snape._

“We need a Cloaking Charm or some sort of invisibility spell that will hide us both,” said Ginny, starting to pace. Harry could tell that she wasn’t going to hide unless he could hide with her.

“A Disillusionment Charm?” he asked. “I don’t know the incantation!”

Harry heard voices at the door. Umbridge had arrived, most likely with Snape in tow. Without thinking, he stepped in front of Ginny as if to shield her from Umbridge’s gaze.

But Ginny rapped the back of his head with her wand and muttered something under her breath. He felt as though she had broken an egg on his head, like a flood of cold running down over him. He heard her mutter again, presumably casting the same spell on herself.

The door opened and Umbridge came in.

To Harry’s horror, she made a beeline straight for him. He sucked in his breath as he clenched his wand in front of him and pressed his back into Ginny, pinning her to the wall behind him.

But Umbridge looked right through him, as if he’d been wearing his Invisibility Cloak. She stopped just in front of him and flung open the chest that just moments ago he had encouraged Ginny to climb into. He felt Ginny’s body tense as she gripped the back of his robes. He was grateful Ginny hadn’t listened to him…

Holding his breath, he waited while Umbridge rummaged through the chest. His eyes darted to Snape, who was standing at her desk. His cold, black eyes felt like they were staring straight into his soul, reading his every thought and feeling. Harry told himself that it was impossible for Snape to see him. The Disillusionment Charm had surely made them take on the appearance of the lurid pink wallpaper behind them. But Harry could have sworn that Snape gave him a nearly imperceptible head shake…

There was a loud clanking noise as Umbridge slammed the chest shut and abruptly straightened. 

“Found them!” she exclaimed with a wicked giggle. She was holding a set of manacles that Harry was willing to bet did more than just bind its victims.

“Excellent,” said Snape softly, his eyes shifting to Umbridge. “We’d better not keep Argus waiting.”

“Of course,” she replied briskly. She hurried out of the office. “Come, Severus.”

Snape shot another nasty glare toward Harry before he swept out of the room. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Harry exhaled audibly and stepped away from Ginny. He tried to turn around, but she was still gripping the back of his robes. 

“It’s ok, Ginny,” he said quietly. He felt her let go and shuffle away from him. As he turned around, all he could see was Umbridge’s ugly wallpaper and a shimmering effect, almost as if he were looking at it through water.

“ _Finite incantatem,_ ” he muttered, tapping his wand on his head. He heard Ginny mutter the same under her breath and she soon came into focus.

She looked pale with shock. “Harry,” she breathed. She threw his arms around him, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back enthusiastically.

He was so relieved that they escaped and excited by her sudden show of passion that he started to laugh. He felt invincible. Umbridge still had no idea that they had snuck into her office and switched her quills.

Ginny pulled back from Harry, and he could see she was laughing, too. Her plait was resting on her shoulder and hung down her front like a flaming red rope. Her bright brown eyes gleamed with joyful tears as she gasped and shook between giggles.

Harry ran his fingers down the length of her plait, enjoying the silky texture. Ginny quieted and brought her hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek as their eyes met.

“Harry,” she said again, a little less breathless now as she regained her composure. She closed her eyes tightly as if in pain and said with effort, “We have to go now.”

“Just another minute,” he whispered, desperate to kiss her now while he still had the chance. It felt as if he didn’t do it now, he might never get another chance…

“I want to, Harry,” she said fiercely, pulling his hand off of her plait and slipping her fingers between his as she pulled him toward the door. “We can continue in the corridor. We just can’t let Umbridge find us in here.”

Harry groaned audibly as he let her lead him out of the office.


	4. Confessions

Ginny’s heart was still pounding as she and Harry stumbled out of Umbridge’s office and into the second floor corridor. She’d barely been able to control herself with him so close to her. 

Her heart was bursting with happiness as she replayed in her head that brief moment before Umbridge had come into the office. Could she be Harry’s true love? Did he harbor feelings for her deep down that the potion was finally bringing to the surface? 

She desperately wanted to kiss Harry and tell him she’d never given up on him, but she couldn’t bear to do it while he was under a love potion. Even though Fred and George had assured her he’d be acting under his own will, it didn’t feel right to her. But the potion made it nearly impossible for her to hold back her own desire.

Before she could ponder the situation further, Harry had slipped his hands around her waist. 

“You are so brilliant,” he said in a low voice, pulling her close to him. Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat, and her heart fluttered as her eyes met his. Harry was looking at her with the same fierce look he’d given her in Umbridge’s office…

Suddenly, there was a crash in the corridor. Ginny whipped out her wand, still jumpy from the near-miss with Umbridge and Snape. Harry stepped in front of her in one swift motion. She quickly sidestepped him, so she could see the commotion.

Ginny heard George’s raucous laughter as he rolled around on the ground, surrounded by metal pieces of what must have been one of the many suits of armor than lined the corridor. 

He clambered to his feet, but fell again when Angelina burst around the corner, slamming into him.

They both giggled loudly as they collapsed into a heap on the floor. Harry snorted dismissively, stepping away from Ginny.

“Let’s find somewhere a bit more private,” he muttered. He seemed keen to avoid George and Angelina.

But just as Ginny was about to let him lead her away, she heard Hermione’s voice ring out.

“GEORGE! I KNOW YOU’RE UP TO SOMETHING!”

Ginny had never heard so much anger in her voice. A moment later, Hermione stormed around the same corner with Ron following calmly in her wake.

Harry stopped, clearly torn between wanting to avoid the confrontation and wanting to help his friend. He gave a frustrated sigh before setting off toward Hermione. “Let’s make sure everything’s okay first,” he said quietly, sounding annoyed.

Ginny followed, dreading what they would learn. She had a sinking suspicion that Hermione had found out about the love potion. Hermione had drank far less pumpkin juice than the others, so she wasn’t surprised that she was onto the twins. And Ginny was fairly certain that, like her, Hermione wouldn’t want Ron to confess his feelings for her under the influence of a love potion—despite the fact that Fred and George were insisting it wasn’t actually a love potion. 

George and Angelina were still giggling as they got to their feet in front of Hermione.

“I take it you tried the pumpkin juice?” asked George, his back to Harry and Ginny as they approached. Ron nodded behind Hermione, the same goofy grin on his face that he’d had at the feast. The potion was clearly having a much stronger effect on Ron than Hermione.

“Ron and I were in the kitchens, and Winky told us that you asked them to brew a _special_ Valentine’s Day pumpkin juice,” she retorted angrily. “What did you put in it?”

“Ah, so you and my little brother were getting cosy in the kitchens?” smirked George. “Good move, Hermione. You know the fastest way to a Weasley man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Hermione’s face reddened, and she drew her wand. “It’s none of your business what were we doing in the kitchens.” 

“Yeah,” said Ron weakly, apparently trying to fight the potion. “Don’t change the subject, George!”

Ginny cringed as George merrily explained how the potion worked. She watched Harry carefully, her face burning, as he slowly learned the truth.

Harry’s arms went slack at his sides and his shoulders slumped. He furrowed his brow as George talked, his face becoming stony and unreadable. Ginny looked at the ground, unable to watch the inevitable anger and disappointment take hold of him. What if he asked her if she’d known? The potion would compel her to tell the truth. Would he think that she was complicit? That she’d tricked him?

“But it’s clearly a love potion!” Hermione protested when he’d finished.

“Why? Do you feel anything that you hadn’t already felt before?” asked George skeptically.

“Well, no, but it’s certainly much more intense now because I can’t think about anything else,” she retorted more calmly now. She was losing a bit of her momentum.

“And that’s why it’s an _enhancement_ potion, not a love potion,” explained George with a hint of smugness in his voice. “You’re in love with the same person you were always meant to be in love with, but you’re just falling for him much faster.”

This seemed to stun Hermione into silence. She opened and closed her mouth, like a fish out of water, presumably trying to find a way to prove George wrong. She was going through the same shock and outrage that Ginny had when she’d first learned about the potion, and it only annoyed her when George reassured her that she would very likely forget about the whole thing the next day.

To Ginny’s surprise, Harry moved in front of her and gently lifted her chin from the ground. His face was serious, and his green eyes were dark with emotion.

“Who is your heart’s desire?” he asked quietly, his warm hand still resting under her chin. She knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if the potion had awakened her feelings for him. And in that moment, it didn’t matter that the potion was forcing her to tell the truth because, for the first time, she wanted to tell him how she truly felt.

“It’s always been you, Harry,” she whispered, feeling a thrill of anticipation run down her spine.

He bent down and kissed her, softly at first and then with more passion as Ginny reciprocated, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt a rush of blood to her head as she melted into him. Harry deepened the kiss and slipped his hands around her waist.

“Potter!”

They ignored the snarling voice that had joined them in the corridor. Harry was kissing her, and nothing else mattered. Harry’s hands moved to her hair, his fingers getting tangled in her messy plait. Ginny moved to clutch him harder, but she was suddenly ripped away from him by a flash of red light.

She stumbled to the ground, her lips still hot from where he’d kissed her. It was only then that she noticed Professor Snape had returned. He was standing over her with his wand out, glaring at Harry bitterly.

“Go back to your common room!” he barked at Ron, Hermione, George, and Angelina. George and Angelina hurried away, but Ron moved beside Hermione and slipped his hand into hers, both of them silently refusing to leave. Ron looked gobsmacked as his eyes darted between Harry and Ginny.

“Don’t make me report you both to the High Inquisitor,” spat Snape in a low voice. Harry nodded stiffly at Ron and Hermione, as if giving them permission to leave. Reluctantly, they stalked away. Ginny couldn’t help smiling to herself when she saw that they were still holding hands. 

But Ginny’s happiness was quickly replaced with disgust as Snape rounded on Harry, his black robes flapping, making him look like an overgrown bat.

“Potter, your arrogance continues to astound me,” he snarled. Harry didn’t flinch under his glare. He remained standing ramrod straight, his face immobile. Ginny felt a surge of anger. She glared at Snape, imagining that she was boring a hole through him.

“While many work tirelessly to protect you from the Dark Lord, you’d rather risk expulsion so you can show off for a silly girl and jeopardize everything,” he continued, his lip curling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” said Harry flatly. Ginny stepped beside Harry and stuck out her chin defiantly. While she felt guilty for provoking Harry to break the rules, she wouldn’t give Snape the satisfaction of being right.

“A poorly conjured Disillusionment Charm can’t hide you from a skilled wizard,” he replied. Ginny suppressed a laugh and bit back the obvious question of which skilled wizard spotted them in Umbridge’s office. Was Snape trying to insult her abilities or boast about his own?

Harry blinked, but said nothing. Ginny slowly got to her feet as Snape lowered his wand. 

“You’ll both be getting detention,” he said swiftly. “Potter, yours will start now. Weasley will serve hers tomorrow.”

Harry looked like he was about to protest, but Ginny gave him a significant look. His shoulders slumped in disappointment, but he held his tongue. They both knew that arguing with Snape would only make the punishment worse.

Ginny watched as Harry dejectedly followed Snape down the corridor, undoubtedly heading for the dungeons. She raised her hand to her lips, trying to savor the memory of his searing kiss. She couldn’t imagine why Cho would be crying after being kissed like that. Her heart sank as she remembered that she would forget that moment of bliss and worried that she may never get the chance to know it again.

***

Ginny woke the next morning feeling as if she’d been trampled by a group of rampaging hippogriffs. She’d expected to be sore from playing Quidditch all day, but she didn’t expect to have a pounding headache as well. 

She stumbled out of bed and dressed quickly, focusing all of her energy on getting to the Great Hall. Perhaps some hot tea and breakfast would make her feel better.

She was so tired that she nearly ran into Professor Snape as she entered the Great Hall.

“Weasley, watch where you’re going!” he spat.

“Sorry, Professor,” she mumbled, silently cursing him. 

“I’ll see you at six o’clock sharp tonight in the dungeons,” he replied coldly.

Ginny perked up slightly at this comment. “For what?” she asked, nonplussed.

“Your detention,” he retorted, talking to her as if she were dense. “And Mr. Thomas will be joining you as well.”

Without another word, he swept away in a torrent of billowing black robes. Ginny watched him go, utterly confused. Was Snape giving out detentions for simply _walking around_ now?

She decided there was nothing to be done about it since arguing would only get her more detentions, and she stalked off to her house table.

As she scanned the table, she noticed that many of her classmates were a bit more bleary-eyed and lethargic than was usual for a Sunday morning. She wondered if they’d all partied a bit too hard after the Valentine’s Day feast.

Hermione and the twins were already eating breakfast and appeared to be having a heated discussion. Ginny took a seat next to the twins, who were sitting across from Hermione.

“Good morning!” said Hermione brightly, abruptly ending her conversation with the twins. Ginny took a long swig of her tea, feeling that it was way too early for Hermione to be so chipper.

“Morning,” the twins muttered, not looking up from their eggs and bacon.

Ginny mumbled back a greeting and bit her lip as she poured herself a steaming cup of tea, trying to recall what she had done after the feast. She remembered eating dinner with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but she didn’t remember anything after that. She felt her heart quicken and her shoulders tense, her thoughts automatically going to Tom Riddle and the blanks in her memory from when she’d been writing to him.

But she knew that was impossible. Her eyes fell on Hermione as she recalled the they had eaten dinner together. Perhaps Hermione would be able to provide some reassurance that Ginny hadn’t simply blacked out…

“Hermione, did you see me after the feast last night?” she asked bluntly. She wasn’t sure how else to ask without sounding strange, so she thought it would be best to be direct.

“You were really tired last night, Ginny,” said Fred, abruptly. “I remember seeing you leave the Great Hall early because you wanted to go to bed.”

“That’s right,” added George. “Hermione had to help you to your dormitory.”

Ginny looked at Hermione for confirmation. She knew not to trust the twins. 

Hermione shot the twins a nasty look before turning to Ginny and softening. “Yes, I saw you to your room immediately after the feast. We were all very tired,” she said gently.

Ginny relaxed a bit, feeling reassured despite the obvious tension between Hermione and the twins. She was too groggy to spend much time wondering what they’d done to upset Hermione, and she didn’t want to get involved in any of their disagreements. 

It was silly to think she had been possessed, but she couldn’t quite get past how unusual it seemed.

“Thanks, Hermione,” she said. “It’s certainly odd, don’t you think? I’ve never been so tired that I lost my memory.”

“You know, I think Umbridge may have put some sort of Sleeping Draught into the pumpkin juice because we all turned in early, too,” supplied Fred. George and Hermione nodded.

Ginny rolled her eyes. _That_ certainly made sense, she thought with a surge of annoyance. Umbridge would do anything to ruin a celebration that made students happy. She was about to say so, when Harry and Ron showed up.

“Morning,” they mumbled as they collapsed onto the bench next to Hermione. Ginny quickly poured each of them a cup of hot tea.

It seemed that Harry and Ron each had a strong dose of Sleeping Draught as well. Both of them looked worse than Ginny felt. Harry managed to give her a small smile before he took a sip of his tea, and she felt a weak flutter in her stomach. No matter how hard she’d tried to move on, there was always a small part of her that still fancied him. 

She sighed, wondering if the feelings would ever completely go away. Her eyes automatically sought Michael at the Ravenclaw table, looking for a distraction. She spotted him easily, sitting next to Anthony Goldstein with his head on the table. He was undoubtedly suffering from the same potion hangover that the rest of them were. 

With a start, she realized she hadn’t told him about her Quidditch practice! She had been dying to give him the play-by-play. Perhaps she would tell him once he had a bit more time to recover from the sleeping potion.

“What’s going on with Umbridge’s hand?” asked George, tearing her away from her thoughts.

Ginny’s head snapped to the head table. Umbridge was sitting in her usual seat at the center of the table with a large, white bandage around her right hand.

“I hope it’s her wand hand,” muttered Ron darkly. Ginny couldn’t help agreeing. 

“It is,” said Hermione matter-of-factly. “It must have happened overnight because she was fine when we left the Great Hall after the feast.”

“Maybe she tried to catnap Mrs. Norris,” wondered Fred. “That woman has an unhealthy obsession with cats.”

“Maybe someone slipped her the Black Quill,” said Harry heatedly. He was glaring at Umbridge with an intensity in his eyes that Ginny had not seen before. She noticed that he was clenching his fist so hard that the the words, “ _I must not tell lies,_ stood out in bright white on the back of his hand.

Ginny couldn’t help feeling a bit of schadenfreude at the thought. “What do you think is etched on her hand?” she wondered, a satisfied smile curling at her lips.

“ _I’m a liar,_ ” smirked Ron.

“ _I eat kittens for dinner,_ ” snorted Fred.

“ _Dear You-Know-Who…_ ” started George, as if reading aloud a letter. Fred and Ron tittered, and Harry shot him a lopsided smile.

“I hope she was writing a nasty letter about Harry,” said Ginny, her smile getting broader.

“I’m sure she’s always writing nasty letters about me,” replied Harry, rolling his eyes. “Why would you hope for another one?”

Ginny looked at Harry. “So that she can’t get away from you. Every day she’ll have to look at your name, carved into her skin, and remember that she will never break you,” she said heatedly. 

Ron nodded approvingly. “And it’ll drive her mad.”

Harry nodded slowly, considering the possibility. Then he grinned. “I like the idea of that.”

“That’s why you must always resist,” replied Ginny, urging Harry not to lose hope. She knew he’d had a rough year so far.

“That’s right,” he said, his green eyes blazing fiercely. “Every act of resistance counts.”


End file.
